


[ounce of peace]

by Feather (lalaietha)



Series: [to see you there] [23]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Tony Has Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-23 06:18:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13184118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalaietha/pseuds/Feather
Summary: "You know one of the first pieces of advice Rhodey ever gave me, after the stupid fucking Expo?" she asks, quietly, picking an imaginary piece of lint off the shoulder of his shirt with her free hand. She goes on before Tony can come up with something smart and says, "He said you were guaranteed to say stuff like that. That you would definitely have times where you said you had no idea why I had anything to do with you, or even ask me why. And that I should never, ever actually tell you."





	[ounce of peace]

**Author's Note:**

> Immediately follows [Still you try to control it.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11747289)

This probably marks the first trip since Insight, Pepper realizes, that she's coming back from DC and she doesn't actually want to light anyone on fire. 

Not that the trip was without stress. Or without idiots. But Pepper is starting to feel like maybe, just maybe, the idiot reactionaries are being just barely nudged out of the driver's seat by people with a basic clue and sense of the complexity of the world beyond "throw the biggest tantrum." 

Barely. Maybe. But still maybe. Last month she wouldn't've counted on that at all. 

She also has to admit that having Ivanova insist that if they were going to have Stark Aviation then she, Pepper, should damn well _use_ the choppers whenever necessary, because it showed faith in their craft and so on and so forth, and how that means that the chopper drops her off right at the Tower and she doesn't have to do any ground-level crap to get home . . . is nice. It means she can just drag her carry-on into the penthouse and then leave it. 

She calls, "Honey, I'm home," because it's not really funny but it's a _little bit_ funny, even if it turns out that the effort is slightly wasted. 

"Mr Stark is in the den, Ms Potts," JARVIS tells her politely. 

"Thanks, JARVIS," Pepper replies, and then asks, "Should I be worried?" 

"No more than usual, Ms Potts," JARVIS says and Pepper actually laughs a little. She also grabs one of her terrible girly wine coolers on her way past. 

It has struck her as odd, more than once, that Tony used to give her shit about drinking Stella, but not the coolers. There's probably some logic that makes sense only if you're right inside Tony's head, or happened to be at a particular party at MIT twenty years ago. 

Tony is in the den, lying on the square blocky couch and frowning at the title screen for some show on Netflix. Actually, when Pepper looks at it again, she can see it's got the right shape to be the screen for _Dallas_ , and rolls her eyes. 

"You're not allowed to watch that," she tells Tony, folding her arms and leaning on the doorway. "Either version," she clarifies, just in case. 

"If I can't make myself miserable by watching nasty rich people neck deep in petty dynastic warfare I'll have to do something exciting instead," Tony replies, sourly. "And then not only will _you_ get all Disappointed in me, but so will Rhodey, Betty, Bruce, Eva, _Romanoff_ and finally _Hill_ will probably give me a god-damned lecture too. Hell maybe Wilson'll even drop by to chime in. And then I might have to blow up Manhattan." 

"So you're in a great mood," Pepper says, dry. 

"No," Tony replies, in the same sour voice. "I'm in a horrible fucking mood, Janine started being expressionless around eleven, JARVIS's been being patient since eleven-fifteen, so obviously I am _really_ fun to be around right now, and I cannot for the life of me figure out a single damn reason you put up with me. I honestly can't." 

It's not really funny, but Pepper still has to suppress a smile. She kicks off her shoes and crosses the room to sit on Tony's lap. Or whatever you call sitting on someone who's lying mostly reclined on a couch. She tucks up the one leg to sort of settle in against the space made by the bend at hip and thigh and she leans her elbow on the back of the couch. Leans the side of her head on her fist. 

Tony's hand goes to rest on the top of her thigh and it honestly has less to do with what you'd think of as affection, between partners, and more like it makes him feel more sure she's there. He doesn't look awful, so he obviously managed some kind of sleep last night, but he does look tired and stressed. Pepper runs her fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his face. 

"You know one of the first pieces of advice Rhodey ever gave me, after the stupid fucking Expo?" she asks, quietly, picking an imaginary piece of lint off the shoulder of his shirt with her free hand. She goes on before Tony can come up with something smart and says, "He said you were guaranteed to say stuff like that. That you would definitely have times where you said you had no idea why I had anything to do with you, or even ask me why. And that I should never, ever actually tell you." 

Tony looks down, probably so that the stretch of the smile looks more genuine because she won't be able to see his eyes. "Yeah, my ego's enough of a problem," he says, in the voice where the joke isn't. In the voice that's wistful instead. 

Pepper makes a quiet _uh-uh_ noise, and when he looks up, reinforces it by shaking her head. "Because," she says, and pushes at the line between his eyebrows with her index finger, just hard enough to move his head, "then the _next_ time you fucked your head up, you'd do your absolute damndest to prove that whatever I told you was the reason wasn't real, or wasn't true, or wasn't really you, or some other shit. And that would be the fucking lie, but just because it's you, you might be able to tell that lie hard enough for just long enough to absolutely fuck yourself over." She prods the centre of his forehead again. "He said it was a miserable pain in the ass, but the fact of the matter was, any good quality besides _smart_ , on a bad day, you'd end up driven over the edge to prove you didn't really have it." 

Tony looks at her, eyebrows knitted together like he's trying to work some way around that one, and doesn't say anything. Pepper turns and shifts and settles herself so she's lying mostly on him, up against the back of the couch, head resting on his shoulder. 

"Besides," she says. "You don't need to know why I love you. You know that I do. And you know what I won't put up with and what means I won't talk to you anymore even though I still love you." 

One of Tony's arms is already settled around her shoulders, and the other hand settles almost carefully on her hip. 

After another moment or two he says, "I . . . don't . . . have an answer. For that." The words are halting. 

"Good," Pepper says. Lying down might have been a mistake, because now she's really comfortable, actually, and it's hard to keep her eyes open. "I'm pretty sure the next step in this conversation is something about killing you before pulling what Obadiah did and we can skip that because then I'll get pissed off and need to go unpack, and actually now that I'm here I think I'll just have a nap instead." 

"I feel like you just crashed my brain," Tony says. He shifts a little under her, but only enough - she thinks - that the arm around her shoulders is more comfortable to keep there. "Like . . . vintage DOS fucking blue-screen." 

"Tony," Pepper says patiently, and maybe a little bit because saying that is almost like a challenge, "contrary to your understanding of the situation I didn't even stop _loving_ you after you fucking blew up the house in a piss-fight with Rhodey and then brought me poison-berries as the official worst apology of your life. I just wanted to scream at you until you stopped being so fucking awful, except I knew that wouldn't work." 

After a few seconds where she thinks about how it's nice to actually be able to hear his heartbeat and nothing else, with her head on the front of his shoulder, Tony says, "I think I've actually had worse apologies," and then adds, as she turns her face into his shoulder in a half-hearted mimicry of beating her head against the wall, "but they were before I met you and the amount of illegal drugs involved was pretty high so I mean, yeah, fair assessment." 

"Stop fucking watching _Dallas_ ," she tells him. "Also shush, I'm comfy."


End file.
